


Remains

by chlorinx



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Blood, Gore, Gun Violence, M/M, Poetry, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 05:12:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16612559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chlorinx/pseuds/chlorinx
Summary: he's probably armed, possibly not.





	Remains

There's blood covering his chest, his hands, every part of him he can see. It's warm and unforgiving, cleansing him as it flows over his skin, leaving a red trail, making sure he doesn't forget. Guts lie in front of him, and he tries and tries to put them back where they belong, back where they should be, but they keep falling out. He's dying. He opens his mouth and bugs fall out. He falls to the ground and he doesn't get up.

Tyler's nails are dug deeply into his palm when he wakes up, and Josh has to pry them away gently, telling him it's okay, it's okay, it's okay.

"I'm here, breathe," Josh says, holding Tyler's hands in his own. Tyler looks at him. 

"I- sorry, I'm sorry, bad dream".

Josh nods, "S'okay".

"Why're you in my bed?," Tyler says, and he's calm, surprisingly. 

"You were screaming dude".

"Oh," Tyler grins awkwardly, "I'm okay, Josh".  
He's okay.

On one occasion, they're sent outside to tackle looters raiding a bank, and Tyler cocks his gun as he sees one leg it up the road. He's probably armed, possibly not but the others have the same idea, they aim their guns towards the man, and Tyler's not alone in this.

Marks eyes are harsh on his own. 

"Gotta tell you kid, you ain't been up to standard lately, fix up or we're gonna get jack shit done around here".

Tyler nods, remorseful. His boss glares at him, but he's satisfied, so he sits back down and watches as Tyler goes round the front to collect a ladies details. 

She tells him her name and address, and he documents them like he's supposed to, hands her change like he's supposed to, smiles like he's supposed to. 

The day is boring, and by the end of it Tyler forgets why he ever agreed to this job.

On one occasion, they're sent outside to tackle looters raiding a bank, and Tyler cocks his gun as he sees one leg it up the road. He's probably armed, possibly not, but the others have the same idea, they aim their guns towards the man, and Tyler's not alone in this. They all shoot simultaneously, and the boy can see the man fall, see the rounds rip through his life as his head cracks against the ground. 

Josh is smoking when Tyler gets home. He's lying on the sofa, cigarette in one hand, book in the other. The cover reads 'War and Peace'. 

"Thought you were working," Tyler says it like a question, and Josh answers it like one, taking the cancer stick in his mouth. 

"Library's shut," He close his book and shows it to Tyler, "They gave me this though". Another drag from his cigarette.

Tyler grunts and sets his bag down on the table, walking over to Josh before sitting on the stool next to him. 

"Josh," He says,"you're my friend right?".  


Josh closes his book and gives his full attention to Tyler, polite. He's always so fucking polite. He nods in affirmation,"Why?".

"I uh, i gotta-," But the doorbell rings before he gets to finish, and Josh is up within seconds, going to answer it. Tyler doesn't speak for the rest of the evening.

On one occasion, they're sent outside to tackle looters raiding a bank, and Tyler cocks his gun as he sees one leg it up the road. He's probably armed, possibly not, but the others have the same idea, they aim their guns towards the man, and Tyler's not alone in this. They all shoot simultaneously, and the boy can see the man fall, see the rounds rip through his life as his head cracks against the ground. They must've hit him a dozen times, because he's unmoving, lying still. Tyler's feet are rooted to the ground, knuckles white around his gun, and he watches with cold eyes as Brendon steps forward, weapon dropping to the ground. He's cold. Everything's cold. 

The rain is continuous, and the night is young. Josh sits next to Tyler on the couch, legs resting against the table. He breaks the silence. 

"What'd you do if i kissed you?". 

Tyler is taken by surprise. With wide eyes, he leans forward and stares at his friend, "What?". 

"Am i allowed to kiss you?," Josh isn't embarrassed, his eyes are focused on a crack in the wall as he shifts his feet. 

"I ain't queer," Tyler says, but he's leaning forward anyway, touching his lips to Josh's because he's lonely, and so, so scared. 

Josh kisses back instantly, hand coming to tug on Tyler's shirt as he shoves the other boy backwards, pinning him against the couch, straddling his hips.

Josh tastes like cigarettes and metal, and its disgusting, and Tyler is careless. He moans into the other man's mouth and almost cries when Josh pulls back, catching his breath, saying, "I ain't either". 

They spend the night like that, and Tyler pretends he's focusing on Josh biting marks into his neck, rather than intestines falling out of limp bodies, or the putrid smell of raw flesh, or blood drying on places where there shouldn't be blood. 

On one occasion, they're sent outside to tackle looters raiding a bank, and Tyler cocks his gun as he sees one leg it up the road. He's probably armed, possibly not, but the others have the same idea, they aim their guns towards the man, and Tyler's not alone in this. They all shoot simultaneously, and the boy can see the man fall, see the rounds rip through his life as his head cracks against the ground. They must've hit him a dozen times, because he's unmoving, lying still. Tyler's feet are rooted to the ground, knuckles white around his gun, and he watches with cold eyes as Brendon steps forward, weapon dropping to the ground. He's cold. Everything's cold.

Brendon collects the mans guts in his hands, and stuffs them back into his body, back where they belong. He's careless, unfazed and Tyler throws up on the side of the road, stomach acid burning his throat. His co worker pats his back harshly, "Better out then in buddy". Better out then in.

On Saturday, Josh and Tyler spend the day outside, sharing cigarettes and kicking a flat football back and forth. The events of last night stay unspoken about. 

"You seem different you know," Josh says, careful. 

Tyler shrugs, "I'm the same".

Josh smirks playfully, foot on the ball "Right, just me being stupid then". 

When Tyler says nothing, Josh frowns and steps towards him, "I know you ain't a pussy, but if you need to talk then I'm here. Just cause you're a dude doesn't mean you gotta hide".

Tyler smiles, he's grateful. He thinks about telling him. He decides against it. 

"Thanks J".

When they eat dinner, Tyler leaves nothing on his plate, not even the blood that drips onto the surface from the raw meat.

On one occasion, they're sent outside to tackle looters raiding a bank, and Tyler cocks his gun as he sees one leg it up the road. He's probably armed, possibly not, but the others have the same idea, they aim their guns towards the man, and Tyler's not alone in this. They all shoot simultaneously, and the boy can see the man fall, see the rounds rip through his life as his head cracks against the ground. They must've hit him a dozen times, because he's unmoving, lying still. Tyler's feet are rooted to the ground, knuckles white around his gun, and he watches with cold eyes as Brendon steps forward, weapon dropping to the ground. He's cold. Everything's cold.

Brendon collects the mans guts in his hands, and stuffs them back into his body, back where they belong. He's careless, unfazed and Tyler throws up on the side of the road, stomach acid burning his throat. His co worker pats his back harshly, "Better in then out buddy". Better in then out.

Tyler watches as the mans body is carted off in the back of a lorry, and it's the end of the story. He's gone. He's dead. It's the end of the story. 

Except not really, because on Monday Tyler patrols the area, and he stares at the blood shadow left on the street, and he steps right over it. He does the same the next week, and the next week, and the next week, until he can tell where the imprint lies, eyes closed and mouth sewn shut.

His yearly leave is important, his yearly leave is needed. Josh lies beside him on the bed, shirt off, brown curls messy and untamed. He is content. Tyler can't say the same. 

"Can i fuck you?," Josh asks. 

"I ain't queer," Tyler replies, but he lets Josh anyway. 

When there's semen on his chest and no air in his lungs, Tyler collapses onto the bed, mind spinning. 

"I ain't either," Josh says, a smirk playing at his face, and the other boy wonders how many other secrets he keeps. 

When Tyler sleeps, the man is probably armed, possibly not, and when Tyler dreams, the man is being torn open by a dozen rounds. 

The following day, Josh gets Tyler drunk on cheap vodka, and Tyler gets Josh high on cocaine he stole from a strangers pocket. 

They sit on their couch, wasted and useless, and when Josh falls asleep on Tyler's lap, the latter runs his hands through the boys hair. Blood drips from Tyler's nose, its red, like cranberries, and he thinks of the shadow on the street. He thinks of guts lying on concrete. He thinks of bugs crawling out of his mouth, already dying, already dead. 

On the last day of Tyler's leave, Josh gives Tyler head. Tyler doesn't say he isn't queer, and Josh doesn't say he isn't either, and when they finish, Josh's head rests on Tyler's chest, telling him stories of stars and musicians. 

"When you die you'll be a star," He says.

"I know you always wanted to be a musician," He says. 

"One day you'll be both," He says.

And Tyler thinks of the mans bloody life, he thinks of his own bloody hands, and he hopes, hopes Josh never finds out. 

They fall asleep simultaneously. Josh dreams of fast cars and guitarists. Tyler dreams that Josh is probably armed, possibly not.

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off 'Remains' by Simon Armitage, it's an awesome poem and i hope i did it justice.


End file.
